Hey there Jean Kirschtein
by chocolatesundae123
Summary: A fanfiction inspired by the song in the title. Will possibly get mature in the later chapters so stick around. May change and if you don't like fluff I will indicate so that you don't have to read all the details, it wont be too necessary to the rest of the story and you could probably work it out anyway. :)
1. Chapter 1

This was the day that Marco Bodt dragged Jean Kirschtein camping.

'Come on Jean, it won't be that bad!' Marco called to Jean and he turned to look at him. Marco's face was beaming, smiling wide. That smile of his always made Jean warm inside and he smirked.

'I never said it was going to be bad, but I'd rather stay home and play video games if you just wanted to hang out,' Reluctantly, Jean dragged his feet over to Marco and hauled the huge rucksack onto his shoulder.

'Jesus!' Jean exclaimed 'What did you pack in here Marco; I thought we were only going for the weekend or did you pack one of your friends in there too!' He laughed at his own joke; everyone knew Marco didn't have any friends except for Jean himself. Although, Jean thought, he didn't have any other friends either, unless you count the ones he met on Xbox Live.

'Um, just the stuff we need I think, like food and a tent and stuff,' Marco chuckled and lifted his hand to the back of his head, cocking it to one side. God. It was so adorable; Jean could feel himself going red. He shook the thought out of his head and laughed a bit more.

'Couldn't we just grab a Maccy D's on the way, it would make the bags a lot lighter,' Jean said as he dropped the bag back down on the floor. It landed with a thud on the concrete of Jean's drive.

'No, we're going to do this all properly; it'll be different, and so much more fun!' Marco turned back towards his car and popped the trunk to reveal another rucksack along with a couple of extra bags.

Marco had driven to Jean's house in his smart Cadillac CTS-V Sedan, just one of the few items that gave away how wealthy he was. You would never be able to tell that he was rich. He was wearing baggy jeans and a white and navy striped shirt with a loose jacket strung over his shoulders. It was these things that made Jean look up to Marco. He was so much like Marco in some respects. Jean didn't like people knowing he was quite poor, especially because he went to a private school. The only reason for Jean going to a private school was because he did well in middle school and got a scholarship. Jean did think that high school would be death at a private school, all the posh people wasting their life away and passing by the good education. In some respects that was all true, until he met Marco. Marco was just so down to earth, driven academically even though he had all the money just to sit and play with his thumbs all day.

Marco was the best friend ever. Him and Jean would always play video games and watch movies together and laugh like the best mates they were. One of the best times they had had, Jean recalled, was pranking the neighbours with the hose-pipe. It was so funny; they had lied on the floor and laughed for hours. Afterwards they sat on the grass and stared at the sky, watching the clouds. Jean always wished that that would happen again; the one moment when he could just forget everything and stare at Marco's eyes chestnut eyes.

That's one of the reasons Jean agreed to come on the silly camping trip, to try and get that feeling of belonging, next to Marco. He also wanted to try to get to know Marco better as whenever Marco was at his house, Jean would never know how to ask him.

'Jean? Jeeaaannn.' Jean jumped off of his train of thought as the faint voice of Marco calling him snapped him back into reality.

'Oh, sorry Marco,' He apologised, 'I was just thinking about this weekend that's all.' Marco smiled at this and replied 'Great! Grab your stuff and open the car then we can be off!'

Jean didn't hesitate after that to grab his stuff and stagger to his GMC Terrain, excited for the adventure ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

This was the day that Marco Bodt reflected on his past life.

'Where are we actually going Marco?' Jean inquired restlessly. Marco couldn't help smirking. There had been a bit of a disagreement before they had left about who was driving the truck. Jean was adamant that he was driving, even after Marco had reminded him that where they were going was a surprise and Jean therefore couldn't know where they were going. After Marco realised that he was not going to change his decision about driving, he had hooked up his iPhone to the car and set the GPS. At that moment, the GPS burst to life;

'Turn right, and then take the second exit at the round-about,'

'Can you turn that stupid woman off, she's doing a pretty fine job of pissing me off and we haven't even gotten out of Middleburg yet,' Jean practically spat at the GPS. Marco frowned a bit and sighed.

'Jean, just calm down, I'll turn it down and set the screen up so you can see it,' He then proceeded to fumble around with the iPhone for another couple of miles before setting it up so it didn't keep sliding around across the dashboard.

They sat in an awkward silence for a long time. Marco had never been very good at small talk, even though he'd had endless hours of small talk conversations with his mother on holiday journeys. Just because you had private jets and shofars to taxi you to all the places in the world, it didn't make you any less bored, as Marco had found. Conversations with his father had been almost strictly out of bounds because of the strong, invisible line that kept the two separated. Marco's dad carried a sense of purpose and had some untouchable aura about him. Marco himself despised this and had always vowed he would never be like his father, never live up to his father's expectations of being the head of the company and never fall as low as to put money before happiness.

Marco stared out of the window, expressionless. Miles of flat land spanned out in front of him, it drew him in, like it had a grasp on his chest. Maybe that was why Marco had come, to feel free. To get away from the walls of his house, this had become his prison. His every waking thought, to get out. Being home-schooled didn't help either, it only made him want to know more about what life outside was like.

'Mummy, why do I have to stay here? Can't we go to McDonalds; it's this food place I saw on T.V! Maybe we could take Daddy too,' Marco grimaced at the memory, his younger voice replaced with the deeper, grown up voice he had now.

'Why don't you go ask the cook to make something for you Marco, you know Daddy's a bit busy to take a trip out today, maybe next week darling.' But that's what she said every week. It was a never-ending cycle of waiting and disappointment from his Mother mostly. Marco had never seen his father until his 7th birthday. He'd had so many expectations, seen so many pictures. They were all crushed when he'd come to his 'party'. It's not like Marco's parties were particularly interesting anyway, they mostly consisted of a few house-keepers and his own beaming mother presenting lots of expensive gifts to him. But that birthday, his father 'took time off work' to come and see him personally.

'Here, this is for you,' He had said to Marco, 'Sorry I can't stay any longer, work has come up, I'm sure one day you'll understand,'

'It's okay,' Marco heard himself say, 'Go have fun Daddy!' The tall, dark figure of his dad walked out of the memory and as the door closed, so did the memory. The light drew into the closing door and memory Marco sat in the dark, staring at the small package in his hand. He smiled and ripped the wrapping paper off. Looking back, the paper was too well to be wrapped by his own father, maybe one of his machines did it or maybe a housekeeper. Slowly and carefully, Marco lifted the cover off of the box and stared at it for a long time. It was a beautiful watch, gold plated with crystal insets, extremely expensive, but that meant nothing to Marco at 7. Underneath the watch was a small business card with the words;

'My Son. You are so grown up. This is for when you become a big boy and take over from me. It may seem a long way away but this is for you to wear whenever you feel ready. Your Father'

The darkness seemed to close in further around Marco, it closed tight around his chest pulling inside. Looking again, Marco didn't see his younger self but his own, older self, curled up with that box. Then his father, exposed by the small light that Marco himself was emitting, walking towards him.

'Come Marco, it is time,' It was his father's voice, but not his real one, a projection, the one on the other end of that phone. Marco stood and stared. He took a step back.

'I have the jet ready and you can even choose yourself a new suit, it will be a gift to you,' His father reached out a hand towards the hesitant Marco.

'No, I'm too young,' Marco muttered, unconvincingly. He took another step back.

'Mr Philips is waiting for you, and he has a wonderful business offer that you just have to hear. I told it was too generous but he insists you hear first,'

'No,' Marco's voice cracked as tears started to well up in his eyes, 'I won't,' He said a little louder.

'Marco, don't be like that, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity you are passing by,' The voice became more urgent, pressing against Marco but at the same time pulling him closer.

'I'm not becoming like you!' Marco shouted into the dream. 'This is it I guess then,'

He turned and ran.

'Don't be like this Marco, I don't want to have to force you,' The voice was inside his head, driving him insane. Marco clamped his sweaty palms tight over his ears and shut his eyes. It did nothing, the voice whispered in his head and the darkness didn't change. Marco opened his eyes just as a black whole began to open up in front of him. Marco skidded to a stop, unable to turn back, afraid of what was behind him.

'Do you see now my son,' This voice was not one that had been on the phone, this one was different. Unfamiliar. Overpowering. Marco flinched, he was stuck again. Nothing had changed. He was still faced with a choice. A choice, and he couldn't decide where to go. Marco weighed up the situation. No way out.

He jumped.


	3. Chapter 3

This was the day that Jean Kirschtein got lost.

Jean had been worried for several hours.

At first it had been cute, Marco falling asleep. For more than a few miles it had just been him and the sat-nav, him scowling at it while it blandly gave him directions. They stopped half way through as well.

At first, Jean was reluctant to stop because he didn't want to wake Marco. It was obvious that the guy was tired, because it wasn't like Jean's truck was silent. Far from it actually; as soon as he turned the ignition on, the whole street was suddenly alive with noise. The first time Jean had heard it, he could have sworn blind that the guy standing in front of it was going to need ear defenders. Jean had never particularly liked this loudness but for the sake of getting his own car, he had lived with it.

Just fact that Marco had fallen asleep whilst inside, was a small miracle in it 'self. But Jean needed diesel, and fast. The small pointer was on the red and also there was a small icon flashing 'LOW FUEL'. So Jean had pulled over at the next station. He slowed the car down gradually, just one of the things he did to try and not wake Marco. As the car came to a stop by the fuel pump, Jean looked over to Marco.

A mile ago, when he had last shot a glance at Marco, the man was mostly expressionless, but now he looked slightly saddened and distressed. Jean didn't like the thought of Marco having a bad dream, as there was not an ounce of bad blood in him, so he disregarded the thought and reached for the door handle.

The air outside the car was stifling and suffocating, compared to the nicely air-conditioned car. It took Jean a few minutes to get used to this new humidity in the air as he filled the car up with fuel. A short click from the pump notified him that the tank was full and he proceeded to screw the fuel cap back on and stride over to the small shop to pay. A wave of cool air hit him like a speeding train; he could feel the sweat that had formed on his back from standing outside for just a few minutes. The lady at the counter was being hit with a constant wave of cool air from the air con but even so she looked hot, bothered and very tired.

'$54 please,' she held out her hand expectantly, pointing to the sign that said in caps; CASH ONLY. Jean, who was fed up with this ignorant woman already, fumbled into his back pocket. He drew out the cash and handed it to her. The till sprung outwards to reveal hardly anything. Jean suddenly realised that he hadn't needed change and praised himself for filling up so accurately although he was suspicious that the lady had charged him a couple of cent extra because she had no change.

'Are you okay?' The lady was staring at him as he stared blankly at her, hand suspended in the air, the receipt she had given him fluttering in the breeze of the air-con.

Jean walked out hastily, swinging the door wide open as he stormed out of the shop and into the car, forgetting about Marco entirely and slamming the door in his sudden, irrational anger. Remembering about his sleeping buddy, Jean turned and even after everything, he was still sound asleep. The car roared to life at the turn of the key and Jean raced off again onto the open road.

Marco was asleep the whole of the rest of the journey, quietly muttering to himself occasionally. Jean was doing his fair share of muttering cursed words at the sat-nav, who constantly reminded him to; 'turn around as soon as possible' because of a road works diversion which had taken them almost back on themselves. The detour was long winded and on a lot of dirt roads but finally the car came up to what looked a bit like civilisation. A sign on the side of the road informed Jean that this was the country park of some obscure place he had never heard of, he kept driving anyway.

The park was not really a park but more of a very out of place forest. It was extremely overgrown and it just stopped very abruptly at the edges to give way to dirt countryside. There was a ranger shelter but the windows were smashed and the whole building seemed to need a lot of maintenance work, especially the roof which sagged in the middle, threatening to collapse at any second. The door was dangling precariously off of its' hinges and there were huge scratch marks down the door. Jean thought it best not to stop and see if anyone was unfortunate enough to still be in there, so he kept on driving.

There was a very rough track ahead which was also overgrown. The track was hard to see but Jean tried to follow it as best as he could which wasn't too difficult because there was trees lining the sides of the road, one false move and the truck would have been out of action for good. Jean didn't think this would be too good seeing as Marco didn't bring a phone and Jean wasn't really on speaking terms with his parents.

At the end of the track there was a clearing, which Jean assumed must be the dead centre of the forest. He checked the clock; 19:23. 'It's going to get dark soon,' Jean thought to himself. He parked the truck at the edge of the clearing and jumped out. Looking into the window, over to the passenger side, reassured him, Marco was still asleep, and still very troubled looking.

First thing that Jean wanted to do was find the map, the better he could recognise and learn his surroundings, the more safe and secure he would feel. Over the other side of the clearing, was a board, Jean was sure that this was the map, it had to be. So he walked over to it.

The walk was further than he expected and it had already stared to get dark and the shadows drew in towards him. The board was in a total mess, it was covered in green moss and vines, which had wrapped themselves up the legs and around the board. Jean drew out his pocket knife and started to hack away at the thick vines, who were reluctant to release the tight grip they had on the legs of the board.

Finally, after the vines were more-a-less freed from the front of the board, Jean looked up to find a very distressing message.

'BEARS. CAYOTES. BEWARE.'

The message was in a brownish pen across the board which made it difficult to see anything behind it. Jean cursed. He moved closer to the board and recoiled almost immediately because of the horrible stench emitting from the board. Jean drew in a huge breath and clenched nose. The picture behind was hard to make out, faded and covered in scrawled letters. It was also incomplete, with huge rip marks and water spots on it. Jean guessed it had seen better days; it didn't look like there had been anyone there for months. Unsuccessful on his trip across the clearing, he headed back to the truck to break the bad news to Marco.

He was totally and unbelievably lost.


	4. Chapter 4

This was the day that Marco realised he was unbelievably lost... with Jean.

'Marco,' Jean shook Marco's shoulders a little harder this time, 'Wake up, uh, I think we're lost,'

'uuuuuggghhh,' Marco groaned. He lifted an aching hand towards his forehead and opened one eye. It wasn't as sunny as he'd expected though so he managed to open both eyes to a very worried looking Jean.

'Uh,' Jean's eyes didn't make eye contact with Marco as he continued, 'I think we're a little lost,'

Marco was suddenly aware that it was getting dark, the sun casting golden rays of light over the clouds. There was also a huge forest surrounding them, the dark fur tree's enclosing the light and drawing long shadows over the clearing.

'Well do you know roughly where we are? You were the one driving, I must have fallen asleep for a bit, I'm sure you didn't get us too lost,'

'Well,' Jean started, 'after you fell asleep, I kept on driving for around 4 hour's maybe,' Jean lifted a hand to the back of his head, something Marco adored about Jean. As well as being Marco's best mate, Jean was also someone who Marco felt the closest to. Whenever he was with Jean, the whole world was like a different reality to everyone else's and Marco loved that. He loved Jean. No, but he didn't love Jean, not in a romantic way really, more of like a sibling love. Yeah, a sibling love, that's what it was. Marco had never worked out the flutter in his stomach though, especially after Jean did something as simple as lifting his arm above his head.

'-and that's how we ended up here. Don't know how we're going to get more gas for the journey back but I guess that'll be part of the adventure, right?' Marco stared blankly at Jean, and his heart skipped, he hadn't been listening again.

'Yeah, it's going to be the best camping trip ever!' Marco beamed at Jean. 'Shall we get the tent set up then?'

Jean removed his arm from the back of his arm to help Marco out of the truck. 'Sure, race you to the fire pit!'

So for the next hour and a half, Marco and Jean set up the tent. They were both sharing a tent on Marco's request as he'd never been camping before and was worried about bears and coyotes even after Jean reassured him that it was very unlikely for them to disturb a campsite unless drawn or provoked, Marco had insisted. Marco knew Jean had been camping once before with his parents on holiday. He said it hadn't been an unbearable experience but it wasn't pleasant. Jean told him that the ranger at the forest he camped in said there 'were some bears' but in the 3 days that Jean had camped, he didn't even see one. Marco was reassured a bit as they were only camping for two nights so there was even less of a chance.

'Hey Jean, can you come help me out with this please,' Marco turned his head over his shoulder to shout over at the other man who was riffling through the kit they left on the truck.

'Yeah, give me a second,' Jean shouted back. He was looking for the envelope, another reason he had agreed to the camping trip because in truth, Jean would have loved nothing more than a night at home with Marco on his recliner playing some FPS shooter on his PS3 or Xbox.

The envelope was tucked neatly into a separate pocket in Jean's kit bag, currently on the back seat. When he found it, it was still in the plastic bag but even so, the edges had started to curl a bit because of the humidity. Jean retrieved it out of the plastic bag, smoothing the edges out, and placing it in a pocket on the inside of his jacket.

'Coming, Marco,' Jean said, walking over to the young man, hunched over the fire pit that they had fixed up for the gas cooker. In his hand, Marco had a small fire starter in his hands.

'I can't make the fire light,' Marco said disappointingly as he made the bright sparks descend onto the little pile of twigs they had collected.

'Try this,' Jean produced a small wad of cotton wool from his pocket, 'If you light this under the twigs they should light,' He bent down and producing another small fire starter from his own pocket, managed to get a small fire going in the pit. Marco sat there astounded, hands extended in the direction of the feeble flames, licking at the air. Jean placed some logs around it, replaced the smaller ones and laid some larger ones on the log so the flames licked through the gaps. 'Not that hard, was it,' Jean looked over at the man next to him and smirked.

'Shut up,' Marco leaned and landed a playful punch on his shoulder. 'Come sit here, it's really warm and you can warm me up even more too,' So Jean ended up sitting next to Marco, with his jacket wrapped around them both, watching the remainder of the light drain from the sky.


	5. Chapter 5

This was the night that Marco saw Jean for the first time.

It must have been early morning that Marco woke up, his eyes slits, bracing for some sort of bright light but it was still dark outside, the light not yet choosing to peak over the horizon. He opened his eyes a little wider, wiping some gunk that was starting to form on his eyelids. He was in the tent, lying next to Jean. So close. Marco's heart fluttered. Jean's sleep was peaceful. He never snored. As a matter of fact, neither did Marco, which meant that both men could fall asleep relatively quickly. Jean didn't often turn in his sleep either, not that Marco had slept in the same room as him much. Actually, Marco realised, this was the first time that he had even been this close to the man while he wasn't fully conscious. Jean sighed in his sleep. Marco wondered if he was having a good dream, about him maybe. Well, not that Marco cared if it was about him or not, he was just curious to the reason Jean was smiling.

Marco loved making Jean laugh. It was one of the best things in the world; Jean's smile. His laugh was like a drug to Marco because Jean had rarely been happy, laughed or even smiled when Marco first met him. Jean had been very enclosed and kept to himself, but Marco had gotten to know Jean and all his perfect imperfections, gotten to love his smile, his smell and even how he breathed. Under all the strop and attitude, Jean was a really nice guy. Marco had also wondered how Jean had never gotten a girlfriend. He had the looks and Marco had seen girls come up to him many times just to come away crying. Even Mikasa the star student asked him to the prom and he declined. Marco remembered seeing her coming out of class, practically crying. He doubted that Jean could ever be truly mean though. He had never been mean to Marco, not even when they had first met. Jean had always made a bit of an effort to be nice, especially when he was being bullied. Marco had been bullied a lot because of how rich he was but Jean was always there to give the guy a well-deserved smack to the jaw not once wavering from his melancholy expression.

Marco snapped, once again, out of his small trance. Even in the pitch black, Marco swore he saw a shadow running across the side of the tent. Fumbling around the front of the tent, Marco searched for his LED torch. The light it emitted was blinding and Marco's eyes couldn't adjust from the almost darkness of the tent. As quietly as possible, he slipped on his shoes and exited from the tent, zipping it back up when he had climbed out.

It was cold outside of the tent, compared to the stuffiness inside the tent and Marco suddenly wished that the fire was still going so he could sit in front of it and warm up, wrapped in Jean's jacket, watching the sunset just like the previous evening. He shivered. Scanning the area of land in front of the truck, Marco decided that there was nothing to worry about outside, still convinced there was nothing else in the forest apart from him and Jean. After he had looked around a little more and was totally convinced that there was nothing to see, Marco decided to go for a little walk around the campsite, having not really checked it out before.

The grass was wet with dew and Marco's feet were getting wet and cold, so after a once round their little area, Marco decided to head back into the tent to get warm. He simply had to open the tent and the warm air came rushing past him and out of the tent. Jean shifted in his sleep, frowning. Marco slipped in as quickly and quietly as possible but he could already start to see his own breath, clouds of white swirling in front of his face.

After Marco had got back into his sleeping bag, it took him a while to get fully comfortable. Once he closed his eyes and fell still, he was suddenly conscious of Jean's heavy breathing. His breath didn't make clouds like Marco's and suddenly Marco was really worried. Ungloving one of his hands, he reached over to the other man with warm, outstretched fingers. The moment his hand connected with Jean's face, both men shivered. Jean's shaking hand reached up and touched Marco's. It was freezing cold. Marco had a mini heart attack.

'Oh my god,' Marco said into the air, hardly even a whisper. 'Jean, you need to warm up, you're going to get ill being that cold,' He shifted closer to Jean. 'Put these on,' He thrust the gloves into Jean's chest. 'Jean!' Marco said a bit louder, catching himself as if they were going to disturb the whole forest. 'Why don't you have a shirt on? No wonder you're so cold!' Marco paused, 'I swear you had a shirt earlier though, did you take it off?'

Marco didn't really mean to sound like an overprotective mother but he was genuinely worried about Jean. Marco could see the Goosebumps all over his body and he kept shivering every minute.

'I did have a shirt on,' Jean started, pausing for a short shiver. 'I took it off in the middle of the night though because it was really hot in the tent and I still wanted to be in my sleeping bag in case it got colder okay, that's all…' His words kind of drifted off at the end, making Marco wonder if there was any other reason for the mysterious disappearance of Jean's shirt. Maybe he just liked the shirtless lumberjack look, although Marco didn't think it would suit him much. Although, he wasn't complaining about the absence of the shirt because it gave him a chance to look at… no, to look concerned, concerned, yes, concerned. Marco repeated the word in his head, trying to convince himself more than anything because damn, he couldn't take his eyes away. He didn't even know if Jean had managed to get gym sessions into his tight gaming schedule but whatever he was doing, gave him really toned muscles. Marco himself didn't look like this. No matter what he did, he could never gain any more muscle or weight so he remained a stick. Not very attractive really.

'-co, hey? Marco…' Marco's vision took a few seconds to come back into focus. 'Where are you looking? Hey, are you ignoring me?'

'Uh,... no! I was just thinking about something, nothing to worry about,' Marco smiled at Jean, hoping he wouldn't press for more information. 'Did you want anything?'

'Well yeah, I kinda need my shirt back because you're… uh… holding it,' Jean looked unsure about how to carry on talking, 'and you were the one who said that I should put it back on to stop being cold.'

'Yeah,' Marco looked down, just to make sure that yes, he was indeed holding the shirt in question. He made an exaggerated purpose to lift it high up in the air and brush it past his nose. Jean's aftershave smell wafted up and into his nose. He closed his eyes, relishing in the scent. God, Jean had an amazing taste in aftershave. Marco made a mental note to ask Jean where the hell he got it from because Marco wanted a bottle to himself; he wanted to have a constant reminder of Jean, for when they couldn't see each other. That wasn't gay? Was it?

'I think we should go to sleep now,' Marco said, laughing a bit to himself to lighten the awkward mood.

'Yeah, gimmie a sec to put on my shirt,' Jean said, already starting to flip the shirt out the right way.

When Jean put on the shirt, Marco just sat there, staring. He couldn't help himself, Marco envied Jean's body so much but he could never improve anything about himself. Jean lifted his arms above his head and his muscles flexed. Marco was practically drooling. The shirt Jean chose to put on was a skin tight and it hugged his body tightly. Marco shook his head a little bit, trying to act casual.

'Right, see you in the morning then,' Jean was very dismissive although he noted that Jean was wearing the gloves he gave him. Marco nodded and shuffled back down into the warmth of his sleeping bags. He didn't go to sleep for a while though, his mind still busy processing the image of Jean's exposed upper half.


End file.
